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Fiction Drama

I hate white walls. I never did like them because they reminded me of  a hospital and I hate hospitals. I hate the smell, the color, the beds and especially the food. It was ironic considering where I was and had been for a long time.

“Miss, can you hear me? Miss, can you talk?” 

I looked up into a pair of green eyes blinking rapidly. I had no idea what voice was behind those eyes asking me what I thought was a stupid question. Of course, I could hear them and could talk. Why were they asking me such stupid questions? I wanted to scream for them to go away. I don’t know how they got in my apartment and leaning over me asking stupid questions.

“Miss, can you tell me your name?”  The voice asked.

I formed my lips to say that my name was Misty Ann Henderson, the CEO of Misty Creations, known world wide. I probably designed most of the voice had in her closet. But, I tried to speak the words but nothing came out of my mouth. I was confused. Why couldn’t I speak? Where was my voice? I know I had a voice but somehow it was gone. I closed my mouth and tried to speak again but again no words came out. I didn’t understand why. What had happened to my voice? What had happened to me? 

The next thing I remember was waking up in a white room. I turned my head to the left and the right and all around me was the same thing, those ugly white walls. I hated those walls. 

I tried to raise my body to get up. I didn’t know where I was but I knew that I shouldn’t be here. I knew this was not my apartment and where was my dog, Hope? I didn’t hear Hope barking. She would be barking at these walls by now. My body felt weak and I couldn’t lift my shoulders. They felt heavy, like they weighed a thousand pounds. Maybe I was in a gym and was sore from lifting weights. I hate my trainer. She is always pushing me to do more and lift more. But, I didn’t see Kaley here. I wasn’t at the gym. I looked at my arms. What is this thing coming out of my arm? It looked like a needle. But, why would I have a needle in my arm? None of this made any sense. 

A woman walked into the room. She had a weak smile on her face and I noticed one of her front teeth was slightly chipped. She had on blue clothes. Wait, where those scrubs that she was wearing? I wanted to ask where I was but before I could say anything the woman grabbed my arm and adjusted the needle in my arm. I wondered why I had that stupid needle in my arm. I gave her the eye. The same eye my mom used to give me when I was little and did something wrong and I immediately knew that I had done something wrong and she knew it. Finally, the woman said something.

“Miss Henderson. You are awake. How do you feel?” 

I looked at her. That was another stupid question. She reminded me of the person with the green eyes asking me stupid questions. I didn’t feel anything but the desire to know where I was and how I got there. 

“Miss Henderson, do you know where you are?” The woman asked.

I shook my head no. I waited for her to tell me. 

“Miss Henderson, you are in the hospital.” The woman explained.

I wanted to say what the hell was I doing in the hospital and how did I get here. I tried to use my voice to ask but all that came out was a sound that wasn’t like any other I have ever remembered myself saying in all of my 49 years of living on earth. 

“Don’t try to talk right now. Your throat is probably sore from the tube. I will get the doctor. Hang on. I will be right back.” The woman said as she typed something on her tablet and left the room.

What the heck? Tubes? Why did I need tubes down my throat in my mouth? This made no sense to me and that doctor better have answers. And someone better tell me where Hope is. Who is taking care of her? And when can I go home?

A few minutes later the woman was back with another woman with her. The other woman looked at me and shined a bright light in my eyes. After that she lifted my arm and took my pulse and held my hand. I waited to hear what was going on. 

“Miss Henderson do you know where you are and what happened?” The doctor asked me. 

I tried to speak but no words came out. The first woman handed me a small yellow tablet and an ink pin. She asked if I could write. I nodded that I could and tried to write the word, NO. 

My writing looked like my writing when I was in the first grade. But, I wrote the word no and then I wrote the word where.

“Miss Henderson, you are in the hospital. You were very sick.” The second voice continued. I assumed that voice was a doctor’s voice. 

“Miss Henderson, I am glad to see you doing better. You gave us a real scare when you first got here. You had a stroke. Your best friend, Anna found you at your apartment. Do you remember any of that?” The voice asked.

I wrote the word no again on the paper. I wrote the word hope.

“Oh yes, your dog is fine.” The doctor said.

“Your friend has her.” She continued.

“Miss Henderson,  you fell inside your apartment and your friend found you. You were in pretty bad shape when you got here and we had to give you an operation to relieve some pressure in your brain. You have been sedated for a long time and now I am glad to see you awake. Do you have any pain?” The doctor asked.

I pointed to the word no again.

“That’s good. You will probably be able to speak in a few days. Right now just rest. I will be back to see you in a few hours.” The doctor said as she left the room.

Rest? That is all I have been doing is resting in this hard, uncomfortable bed. I didn’t realize how hard it was. I hate hospital beds. The nurse was still in the room and she raised the bed a little and smiled as she adjusted my pillows a bit. She asked me if I needed anything.

I wanted to yell that I wanted to go home, that I wanted to see my dog and most of all I wanted some pizza. But, I couldn’t say all of that. I wrote on my pad how long? 

The nurse picked up the pad and read my scribbled words and she smiled at me again. I didn’t need a smile I needed to know how long I had been here.

The nurse checked something on her tablet and she looked at me and said that I had been here for a year. I had my stroke exactly one year ago. 

How was that possible? I have lived a whole year of my life in this bed. I missed a whole year of my life. A whole year passed with me sleeping in this bed and in this room? I have been away from Hope for a whole year? How is that possible?  I wanted to yell all of those words to this woman standing at the head of my bed but the words didn’t come. The next thing I remember was that I was dreaming again. 

“Miss Henderson?” I looked up from my bed. I thought a few minutes had passed but in reality it was a few hours. 

I saw a different nurse this time. This woman had blonde hair and a dragon tattoo on her wrist going up her arm. I blinked my eyes a lot and tried to focus. I wondered what she wanted and who she was. 

“I am your nurse, Mica. How are you feeling today?” 

I couldn’t believe that she asked me that question. How does she think I felt? I was in a hospital bed for Pete’s sake. 

Another week had passed before I could speak. I spoke a lot and they probably wanted me to shut up but I couldn’t. I asked questions and more questions and found out that I was there for a year after I had a bad stroke. They didn’t think I was going to make it but I pulled through and I had no memory of my life in that bed for over a year. It was hard to imagine the life I was living and had lived for that amount of time. When I woke up there was a new president, the world was on pause and everyone was wearing masks and staying six feet away from each other. I woke up in the middle of a pandemic. I couldn’t see my family or friends and I could only video chat with my best friend and my beloved dog, Hope. I woke up to a totally different world. 

This was a world I knew nothing about. I was glad that I was still a part of any world though. It was a different world but it was still my world and I would do my best to stay in it.  

I yelled to the top of my lungs, “Misty You Are Back!”

March 09, 2021 17:49

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1 comment

Margaret Keefe
21:24 Mar 17, 2021

I could feel Mistys confusion and despair. I think we all feel a little like Misty after living through this pandemic, a year lost.

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